


Boom

by Prosecutor_FeenieWright



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: #2 explosion, Crack, Dynamite, Not Beta Read, Whumpertober 2019, i guess?, it's not serious, kinda whump, micah's fault, nongraphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-29 09:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20961797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prosecutor_FeenieWright/pseuds/Prosecutor_FeenieWright
Summary: Dynamite goes boom





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on me finding a crate of Dynamite outside Arthur's tent and really wanting to blow it up.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a stupid incident.

Entirely stupid.

One that would been looked on in the future, laughed about as it retold around the warming campfire.

At least, it would have been.

~~~

Arthur's tent doubled as the ammunition stock.

It always has since the boy because a man, and a man became an enforcer.

The gang could snatch bullets, arrows, hatchets and knives stocked high thanks to the generous donations in the tithing box.

But with those meant dynamite. 

And dynamite went _boom._

~~~

A new weapons run had come in.

_Micah's run._

More snatch bullets, arrows, hatchets and knives. And last but not least, dynamite.

Except the man hadn't stored the red crates away.

The lure of liquor and food too strong to finish of work.

What Mr Bell seemed to forget was: 

Dynamite went _boom._

~~~

A party had started.

No real reason for it but if Dutch was asked he'd say,  
"A job gone well!"

Hosea might add,  
"Raises moral?"

Arthur, he'd grumble after taking a swig of whisky,  
"Alcohol."

While Miss Grimshaw would nag,  
"To annoy me."

Which ever reason, the party was in full swing.

Belches, beers, and sneers. Laughing, sing-songs, and dancing. Swears, threats, and cigarettes.

The whole she_bang._

~~~

It grew dark and the party died down.

No one stopped Arthur as he made his way to his lean-to

His steps were stumbled, mind clouded by whiskey and rum.

Arthur hummed a goodnight to those he passed, fumbling in his pocket for a smoke.

No one mentioned that unfinished job that littered the tent.

He thought of his cot and how enticing it seemed currently.

Arthur let out a breath, smoke escaping his mouth like that of a dragon.

No one thought to warn him of the glaringly red crate lying open just beside his shaving barrel.

He made it to the blue canvas, ducking underneath with his eyes closing.

Arthur threw out the lit cigarette butt as he dropped his hat to his bed.

Arthur's low cursing was sour as he cleaned the stray, miscellaneous collection of bullet boxes from his bed. 

Masked was the distinction _hiss_ just outside.

Arthur was sleep before his head hit the pillow and…

The dynamite went _boom._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, Kudos, and Criticism are always appreciated.  
Tumblr - @Bee_Haw_Yee_Haw
> 
> Everything is also posted on fanfiction.net


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy.
> 
> (Yo 666 words)

The explosion rocked the whole shoreline.

Dutch's tent came loose, pegs shaken from their burrows.

The giant tree in the middle even stumbled with the aftershock.

Wildlife was startled into a stampede from their feeding spots.

~~~

Nobody said a word.

But they all stared now at the charred, tattered remains of a tent.

Then suddenly there was a thud. 

And Tilly screamed as a severed hand landed in her lap.

Mangled skin hung at its ripped edges, blood oozing from it.

It was throw from the ruined yellow dress, landing with a sickening squelch on the grass.

~~~

Hoses sprung from his bedroll.

The crate beside his head tumble with a crash.

The photo of him and Bessie falling flat on its face.

But Hosea didn't move to fix the mess, eyes locked on the carnage before him.

A hat floated down, following the wind as it descended.

A page from a book joined it donning harcoal sketches.

His eyes were watering before the old man truly comprehended it all.

~~~

Dutch was looking for someone to blame.

He queried the gang.  
"Who ran the weapons run?" 

A blazing rage at a man's thoughtlessmess.

All fingers pointed to Micah.  
"Woah...woah, hold on there Dutch-"

But the leader wasn't up for bullshit right now.

He'd just lost a son.

~~~

A stag stood by.

It's antlers high on the air, encasing the sun that sat situated between them.

It crept forward, dark hooves stabbing the ground with each cautious step.

It found an odd shaped tree, three singular branch; one East, one South, and one pointing to Heaven.

It's trunk buried deep down into Hell.

The deer bent it's head, antlers scrapping the wood.

And as the strange tree creaked and tilted back, the stag leaped awau back through the foliage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, Kudos, and Criticism are always appreciated.  
Tumblr - @Bee_Haw_Yee_Haw
> 
> Everything is also posted on fanfiction.net

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Kudos, and Criticism are always appreciated.  
Tumblr - @drjekyll-is-gay  
I have a HTTYD discord (none rp) in my tumblr bio, anyone is free to join :)


End file.
